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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767450">green with envy and red with your kisses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybearkiki/pseuds/babybearkiki'>babybearkiki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gun Violence, M/M, Mostly everyone - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence, War AU, connor is a mom, everyones in love and they r happy by the end, some fluff ok, spiritually and emotionally, the rest of district 9 is here too</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:40:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybearkiki/pseuds/babybearkiki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everythings gone to shit, Kevin thought, and he was pretty much right. Things had gone to shit in the small country of Uganda when a civil war broke out. He was suited up and drafted by his parents to join the cause in the war, for the ugandan's freedom against a bat shit crazy, warlord general. Kevin believed his life would end in that country. He did not believe, to find a charming, adorable soldier to show him a new opportunity in life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arnold Cunningham/Nabulungi Hatimbi, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price, Elder Church/Elder Thomas (Book of Mormon Musical)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. there is just so, so, so much blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a fic i had written back in middle school, and i decided i loved it too much to abandon it! Im sorry if it seems out of date, i havnt checked the BoM fic section in years, but i still love this fic! Always loved historical fictions, so angsty war AU was a given. </p><p> Not sure when chapter 2 will be up, probably in the next few weeks.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breath, in and out, Kevin told himself through clenched teeth, his hands curled into fists in front of him, irregular gasping beginning to get the best of him. Another spasm of pain grasped him, in and out, small breaths through his nose and out his mouth seemed to be easing the agony. He pressed the heel of his hand harder into his thigh, attempting to stop the welling of blood currently soaking his uniform pants. That is until he heard a shrieking noise and nearly jumped out of his skin. </p><p>	“OHMGOSH, best friend-” ah, Arnold. “Are you okay?!” </p><p>	“Y-..yeah, jut-..” another breath, “Just help me up.” </p><p>	Arnold stuck out his hand, grabbing Kevin’s forearm a little too forcefully- adrenaline really does have its side effects. </p><p>	The sun was beating down on the two, a blur of wind whisking past him as a young boy carrying a flag was shot down from his horse, the flag falling alongside him. Out of the corner of Kevin’s eye he saw what looked to be a soldier's head dislocating and for a minute thought it was perhaps Arnold, but his friend was running to his right, eyes narrowed and fixed on the river. </p><p>	A man beside Kevin screamed, the boy nearly missing the jump over the hill, skidding to a brief stop. Kevin growled to himself while he swerved down the gravel slope, digging the heels of his boots into the ground for [supposed] better leverage. The bleeding in his leg had nearly come to an end, a bullet had grazed it lightly but the blood he’d lost was truly overwhelming for a nineteen year old. Hitting the grass with a thud, the brunet took off running again re- running the plan like a film in his mind. </p><p> </p><p>	A cold sensation brought him back to reality, staring down he lifted his foot, oh, he thought, the river. The water was clear, kevin could make out the tiny fish-like bodies straying around his shoes, smiling a bit to himself while he watched the rippling liquid flow past the rocks and create a white water effect, blocking out the sounds of the screaming and gunshots (to which Kevin wasn’t sure it was the blood in his ears causing that or himself). It was a nice ideal picture, take away the actual hell zone and Kevin wouldn’t actually mind taking a daily stroll by this creek. </p><p>	“AH -HEY, HEY, HE-!” A foreign voice howled, Kevin darted his eyes up to see a smaller looking boy, maybe around the same age as himself, pulling uncomfortably tight on the reins of his horse. Kevin got a good 3 seconds to take into detail of the boy) before being met with a spray of water and cloud of dust. </p><p>	Kevin coughed, swaying his hand in a back and forth motion in attempts to clear the ashes of dirt. When the dust did fade though, Kevin was left to stare down at the picture of the stranger hovering over the shallow creek, propping himself with his elbows, breathing heavily and droplets of blood diffusing into the water. His breath was coming in irrelevant, immense gasping sounds. Kevin’s eyes, intrigued to say the least, slowly scanned down the ginger’s lithe body only to end with a chestnut horse bleeding profusely from its neck, tongue red and swelled from its bridle, and legs tangled up in the water. Flies were already pecking and nipping at the animal. </p><p>	“...hey,” Kevin began softly, captivated by the man’s essence, “Are you okay?” Taking a wary step, he set one foot in front of the other, eyebrows knitted in a troubled expression. </p><p>	The migrant didn't answer, in fact he didn't show any signs of even hearing what kevin said, he just took the end of his gun shakily and used it to lift the horses side up so he can free his leg. He had to pull hard to free his leg, so hard he thought it’ll rip from his socket. When he does, however, rescue his leg from perhaps amputation, he’s left to stare down at it- for what reason? He didn't know, he only knew that something different is happening, like his mind if a reel of film and someone had just screwed up the film, or perhaps smashed the reel into tiny bits. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. Yet he finds an odd sensation encouraging him to keep walking. </p><p>	“Uhm...Do you….” Kevin took another step forward, “Do you need help?” It was a stupid question, really, but nonetheless he stuck out his hand with a warm gesture, a small, fake, grin planted across his face. </p><p>	His hand is met with another’s for a brief moment before he pulls the man to his feet, steadying him onto the ground in hopes of helping him adjust to reality without toppling over like a pair of dominos. Their eyes met and Kevin found himself smiling, really smiling. He fought the urge to break out into a happy dance of some sort, because the bubbling reality that he’d just redeemed a life seemed to be surprisingly satisfying.  </p><p>	The moment of happiness came  to  an end though, Kevin didn't notice it at first, he vaguely heard the sound of a gunshot. In the moment he just thinks , oh, it's another soldier off in the distance. Then of course, he heard a defying cry, and the sound of resting crows shooting out of there trees, and blood was pouring onto his hands, he's certain something bad, very very bad, had just happened. But he can't quite put his finger on it. </p><p>	Its when the body goes limp in his arms that he realizes, oh, this person has just been shot! Kevin's head clouded, everything was a blur as he desperately scanned the field. Upon making out the silhouette of his friend James, he grunts as he lifts the bleeding boy into his arms. </p><p>	“James!” He called when he noticed the boy trotting on his horse, scanning for wounded bodies he could perhaps save. </p><p>	The nurse kicked his horses side lightly, making his way over to the pair before asking, “Holy hell, what the hell happened?!” James peered over Kevin,in hopes of getting a better look before shaking his head, “Nevermind, here give him to me.” </p><p>	Kevin grunted as he helped James heave the soldier onto the horse, shortly following the pattern of swinging his leg over the animal's flank and steadying himself. </p><p>	The boy sat limply in James arms as they trekked across the battlefield, Kevin ducking when he heard a whirring sound shoot past his ears. His head was hung low, with fear, he would convince himself. Not the shame and guilt growing inside him. </p><p> </p><p>	When they reach the barrack of sick, wheezing, and dying men James practically flew off the horse and dragged the ginger through the doors, softly asking him things like can you tell me where it hurts? And on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is it? </p><p>	The red head nimbly opened his eyes, a cloud of frothy air leaving his mouth as it looked painful to even breath, but he managed to lift his head up and stare at James. Kevin felt that burning sensation in his stomach again, and he wanted to carefully walk up to the stranger, something interested him. Maybe it was the way he reminded Kevin of a fawn, with his soft looking face, and big heavy eyes. Yeah, kevin would convince himself for the moment, it was just the resemblance that raptured him. </p><p>	“Why are we looking at him like that?” Whispered a voice.  </p><p>	“AH, whoa, like, like what? Im not looking at him- like-”</p><p>	“Whoa, jeez, Kevin. Calm down.” Arnold laughed, putting his hands in the air defensively. </p><p>	Kevin huffed, refusing to find Arnolds laughing humorous, he pulled a mocking mleh sound and Instead, averted his gaze, and stared cold and hard at the floor before he countered, with a snarky laugh. </p><p>	“So, why are you here? Shouldn't you be out there.” Kevin retorted, maybe a bit too hastily, nodding his head to where the tent door was blowing softly in the wind. </p><p>	“Nah, i came for more recruits but I found you..eyeballing that one guy, why were you staring at him like that anyways? You looked like you'd just found the lost city of Atlantis or something.” </p><p>	Kevin felt his face get redder, “No, i was just...curious.” He carefully picked his words, one wrong slip of the tongue and Arnold would never let him down for it. </p><p>	“Curious…” Arnold repeated, “Curious about...what?” </p><p>	“That doesn't matter.” Kevin felt like he needed to walk somewhere, get anywhere away from this uncomfortable situation, so he started making his way to the kitchen in hopes of water. </p><p>	Arnold followed him and to Kevin's relief dropped the subject, instead peering over the counter and watching Kevin retrieve the murky water out of the well. </p><p>	“So about those recruits?” </p><p>	“I didn't bother, we're going to lose anyway.” </p><p>	“How optimistic of you.” Kevin said, setting down two glasses of water. He almost felt guilty for just lounging around when he could be out on the battlefield, fighting, like he had promised his parents. </p><p>	Kevin thought about that for a bit, he let the water touch his tongue as he pondered all the great things he’d promised. He felt that his parents would be disappointed with the progress he'd made so far, because it wasn't progress, it was a backwards linear downfall. It started during drill practice, where Kevin met Arnold, and all the boy did was pester him. Kevin couldn't deny now though Arnold was his best friend, he’d grown to love his company. </p><p>	“Move, get out of my way!” James practically knocked over Arnolds chair, launching for the liquor bottle perched neatly on the counter. Yanking it away and sprinting into another room, where kevin and arnold could faintly make out sobbing. </p><p>	“What the heck was that about?” Arnold inquired, picking his glasses off the floor and brushing the dust off them. </p><p>	Before Kevin even got a chance to open his mouth, a scream filled the air, echoing throughout the roooms. He tilted his head, sharing a confused look with Arnold, carefully standing up from his seat and making his way towards where James had disappeared, Arnold following close behind. </p><p>	Behind the baby blue curtain lay the stranger. His bright and pale blue eyes watching James fiddle with metal knives and scalpels, he was shirtless, Kevin could make out his bare shoulders that were pale and freckled, he looked soft and the picture of the fawn came back into Kevins mind. The big, doe-like, blue eyes were wondering to wherever James moved, looking lost and dependent on something. His face was pasty and blanched, like a clean porcelain doll, and a few of the endearing orange hair strands strayed over his eyelids. </p><p>	James took a thread and needle, turning to face his patient and moving the hair out of his face- oh that James, always so considerate that his patients were comfortable and welcomed. </p><p>	“You're staring again.” Arnold whispered. </p><p>	“No i wasn't.” Kevin scoffed, just as quite.</p><p>	“Yes you were.” </p><p>	“I wasn't.”</p><p>	“But you were.” </p><p>	Kevin narrowed his eyes, sending Arnold a glare that could murder, but Arnold only gave back a raised eyebrow and a smirk, awakening the blush over Kevin’s cheeks...okay..maybe i was, admiring </p><p>	“Can you sit up for me?” James inquired around the corner, silky and sweet.  </p><p>	Kevin swung his head back to see a head of rust colored hair carefully propping himself up with his elbows, the blue blanket slipping slightly over his shoulders and onto his lap, okay he wasn't completely nude, kevin could tell, seeing the waistband of uniform pants. </p><p>	“You're just gonna feel a little pinch, okay? You can hold my hand if you want.” James offered, to which the opposing man declined, continuing to gaze sadly down at his hands. </p><p>	James hesitated before diving the needle into the sallow skin, carefully weaving the thread through and patching up the skin. </p><p>	“Whoa..” </p><p>	“Yeah…” </p><p>	“No way i could do that.”</p><p>	Kevin wasn't sure whether Arnold meant James or the stranger, he brushed it off, shifting uncomfortably as he watched James do his work. </p><p>	“I know.. I know.. It hurts, im almost done.” James leaned forward, biting down onto the thread breaking it and tieing a small double knot, “There, oh, here..here are your clothes...i'll be back in a minute.” </p><p>	Kevin and Arnold both shoot up, facing a bright crimson as James scanned them.</p><p>	“How long have you two been standing there?” He raised a brow, arms crossed over his chest.</p><p>	“Ahhhh, not long, nope, not long at all, we..” Arnold looked back at Kevin, “We- uh- were just--”</p><p>	“Eavesdropping?” The nurse smirked.</p><p>	“Pff, uh, no!” Kevin scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. </p><p>	“You two are impossible, uh..anyways,” James cleared his throat, “Follow me if you will?” </p><p>	Kevin and Arnold glanced at each other, carefully walking behind the doctor briskly where they stopped in a small contempt room.</p><p>	“listen , guys, i don't think this guy is from one of our troops.” James whispered, concern rising in his voice and he continuously peered behind him, carefully checking to see that the ginger didn't awake. </p><p>	“Well then where the hell did he come from?” Kevin furrowed his brows, arms crossed over his chest </p><p>	“Well, I think,” James pulled arnold and Kevin closer to where their foreheads were touching, “he's one of the enemies boys.” </p><p>	Arnold nearly passed out, he fell back before Kevin placed a hand on his back and sat him upright. </p><p>	“huh?” Kevin breathed, his eyebrows knitted in a worried look. </p><p>	“I found this--” James showed a small piece of blood soaked paper. On it was a small map, trailing from their enemies guardlines, to where todays battle took place.  </p><p>	“Oh.” his heart did a little thing where it felt like he was sinking, disappointment. Kevin clenched his fits behind his back in annoyance. </p><p>	“Anyways.” James snapped the locket shut, startling Kevin, “I suggest you have a word with the General.” </p><p>	“Right.” Kevin slowly nodded, “But uh- where is he?”</p><p>	“Who? The boy? In his bed i hope, but i’ll be moving him into the resting barracks soon.” </p><p>	Kevin glanced over at Arnold, who had quickly lost interest in the subject and was staring off into space. </p><p>        When Kevin glanced up, James was gone, past the two soldiers and walking across the camp to a separate building, where the injured slept. </p><p> </p><p>	“I'm gonna go with James, if that's alright with you.”</p><p>	“Yeah, of course, sure, I need to go see about tomorrows plans anyways.” </p><p>	  “Okay.” Kevin nodded, quickly escaping the room and examining to where the heck James went, oh right, the barracks. </p><p>	He popped his head through the doorframe, scanning one side of the room, then the other. </p><p>	“uhm...James?” </p><p>	He heard some groaning, carefully watching the sleeping bodies of amputated and injured soldiers sleep. </p><p>	“Over here!” The voice called. </p><p> 	Kevin made his way over to the voice, the only sound erupting within the room was the sound of his boots and the rustle of the trees. Soft and whispering, he wouldn't admit it, but it was rather soothing. </p><p>	Then there was coughing, and spitting, and hacking, and wheezing. Kevin, retaliated at the dying men, quickening his pace he sharply turned the corner finding James sitting on the bed a glass of water in his hand, as he seemed to be talking to the boy</p><p>	“ get some rest, and try not to sleep on your shoulder.” he heard as he neared. </p><p>	By the time Kevin made his way over James had set down the glass and was beginning to get up, staring down sadly. so Kevin didn't interrupt-- until he did.</p><p>	“So...how is he?” </p><p>	“Okay,” James breathed, “he had a bullet in his shoulder, wouldn't stop screaming, im sure you heard?”  </p><p>	“Yeah,” Kevin nodded, tilting his head to the side while he gazed down at the bed. </p><p>	The boy was fast asleep, his hair brushed delicately over his face. Kevin could stand there and count his freckles for hours. He grunted at the thought. </p><p>	“What's his name?” </p><p>	“Connor.” James commented, with a tired sigh. </p><p>	Kevin had never felt the term ‘butterflies in your stomach’ before-- frankly, he never even believed. Until at the moment in which a fleet of the butterflies erupted in his stomach, and he shuffled with discomfort. </p><p>	He couldn't decide why.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. home sweet hellhole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Got chapter 2 pretty fast! I swear my fics look huge in docs, and then it looks like i wrote nothing in here?? cmon A03..</p><p>Btw, feel free to look me up on tumblr! Id love to befriend some of you guys, or let me know what you think! user is babybearkiki</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kevin had grown accustomed to the war. He had long forgotten the feeling of his calm, american life. He no longer woke up to the smell of his mother cooking breakfast, and racing downstairs to beat his brother from getting to the table first. Instead, he woke up every morning expecting to die in some way, expecting a bullet in the head, a knife in the chest, or just plain losing it.</p><p>Not all hope was lost, however, Kevin grew to make friends. Or rather, friends were pushed into his life and he begrudgingly accepted them. Arnold almost never left Kevins side, and though Kevin failed to show it, he was grateful. Without Arnold, Kevin would have probably been buried 6 feet deep beneath the earth, and, James- James was a breath of fresh air in the chaos. Kevin had begun to believe that the war couldn't touch James. He had met the nurse during Drill practice, when Kevin nearly broke his nose and thought he was going to go blind from the blood in his eyes. Arnold and James grew a liking for one another too, both participating in child like banter. Kevin already felt at peace thinking of his friends.</p><p>He leaned against the sink, rubbing his face, where his eyes hung low and his skin was sensitive and blue. He contemplated the day before, pondering on the ginger boy and his antiques, and how they made him feel. It was like a light switch had just come on inside him. He groaned and his head fell against the mirror.</p><p>“Hey there,” Kevin looked up to see James reflection in the mirror, he turned briefly, “are you coming for breakfast? Arnold is waiting for you.”</p><p>“Yeah,” He sighed, shuffling his way out of the poor excuse of a bathroom, James following.</p><p>“Still thinking about yesterday?” James hesitantly questioned, “I mean, youre usually mopey, but this-” he scanned Kevin up and down, “is a whole new kind of mopey.”</p><p>Kevin didn't reply, he merely began kicking the loose rocks and dirt in front of his, his hands in his pockets and he walked with a sad swagger.</p><p>“Well, he's doing okay,” James continued, and Kevin blushed with disgust that he already knew who James was referencing, “hole in his arm still looks like a bitch.”</p><p>Suddenly, an arm was slung around his shoulder, and a weight brought him down.</p><p>“Hey, Arnold,” Kevin unlooped his arm from his shoulder, smiling gently at his friend.</p><p>“Soldiers!” a voice commanded, and the three boys straightened themselves with a startle, “The general wants to see you.” The man declared, his hands tight behind his back, as he glanced toward the low lit tent.</p><p>Both James and Arnold  shared a worried look, glaring up at Kevin, but he wasn't looking at them. Kevin was staring at the floor with his knuckles white. He took a breath and marched himself toward the tent, the latter two trailing behind.</p><p>The three boys stood upright in the tent, James and Arnold stood uncomfortable straight, a worried look furrowed in their brows. While, Kevin stood there, tall as ever, but a usual shame hung in his shoulders.</p><p>“Boys,” The general sighed, pulling off his thin framed glasses, away from his sunken dark eyes.</p><p>General Hatimbi l was a tall, builded man. With a dark, wiry beard that was often matted with blood. His skin was dark, a Ugandan native, . Though, he was a harsh, strict leader. He enjoyed his soldiers' company, and often humored them in the spirits of war.</p><p>“I've been notified of an,” He waved his hand, “boy,” He laughed sarcastically, “Not one of ours- that got into camp.” Suddenly his stare hardened, ‘How did this happen?”</p><p>Before the two boys could open their mouths, Kevin raised his head.</p><p>‘It was me, I thought he was one of ours, and he had just been shot- so,” Kevin rambled, but James put a hand on his shoulder, stepping forward beside him.</p><p>It was yesterday. Besides the trickle of the creek, the hush of the grass, and the sing song of the birds, everything was quiet. He sat upon the creekside bed, His boots washing in and out of the water as it cascaded down stream. The world was at a standstill for a moment, and kevin was now in tune with the secrets of nature itself. His hands brushed through the nimble grass alongside the water, and a childlike innocence surged through him. Everything was gold and green, a lushness ran through his surroundings.</p><p>His euphoria was dampened for a short moment, when a particular ginger boy silently sat beside him, also dipping his boots into the water.</p><p>Kevin hesitated. there was no anger left in his body, only sheer curiosity and luster. He silently studied the boy. His profile was soft, yet precise. With a nose slightly turned upward, and a pair of flushed lips pursed with a sadness. Kevin's eyes trailed down, to meet his shoulder, where his uniform was torn away, and dried blood clung to his skin. The surrounding fabric was darkened with his blood, and Kevin found the image to clash rather artistically against the boys soft, romantic appearance. Kevin's hand raised. He swore his mind was blank at the time, but his body was urging him.</p><p>Connor raised his head now at this, his blue eyes falling onto Kevins hand.He flinched away, his shoulders rising in tension. For an instant, the two were frozen. Kevin wanted to scream at himself, force himself to throw his hand down, but nothing came about. It went on for what felt like a lifetime to Kevin. Though, now, Connor had turned back to face the river and relaxed his shoulders once more, almost inviting. Kevin's hand landed softly on the boy's shoulder, and though Connor made a backwards glance, he made no movement. He rubbed away the flaky blood, a scabbed roughness hidden underneath it. He only imagined what Connors unscathed skin felt like.</p><p>With this new thought, Kevin was brought out of the daydream, an anxiety rushing through his bones. He cowered in disgust, struggling to swallow. He made a quick escape out of the tent, and passed liquid onto the dirt outside. He hadnt even ate breakfast.</p><p>“Hey buddy,” Arnold's face popped out of the tent's slight opening, “Are you okay?” He inquired with a worry in his tone.</p><p>‘Y-yeah,” Kevin breathed, wiping his mouth, hunched over, “i'll be in in a sec.”</p><p>The minute passed by, and Kevin was still sitting outside, bathing in discomfort. He flinched when a hand tackled his shoulder.</p><p>“Well, guess i better go get Connor.” James stated, giving Kevins shoulder a squeeze. Kevin swallowed vomit at the mention of the boys name.</p><p>Watching James hustle away toward the barracks, Kevin wiped his mouth, now noticing Arnold by his side with a glass of water. He nodded a slight thank you, and drank with gratitude.</p><p>“What did i miss?” Kevin sighed.</p><p>“Well, you and James are going to bring Connor,” Kevin shot Arnold a look at the mention of the name, and Arnold merely responded with slight confusion, “...to the Generals border. And our General is going too,” He spoke, hands on his hips, then continued, “and ill be staying here, watching the camp.”</p><p>“Nice job, buddy” Kevin smiled, placing a firm hand on Arnolds shoulder. Surprisingly, in their ranks, Arnold was a well trusted soldier. He was unique, and often thought of things outside of the box. His unexpected tactics were appreciated by General Hatimbi.</p><p>“Kevin,” General Hatimbi now emerged from the tent, with a rifle and rope, “You'll be using these two.” Kevin carefully took the rifle, slinging its shoulder strap over his body, and taking the rope between his hands.</p><p>‘Whats the rope for?”</p><p>“Well, we cant trust this little white boy just yet,” General hatimbi chuckled slightly before continuing, “You'll have to to tie him to the horse, and tie your horses together. Cant have him running off.”</p><p>“Oh.” Kevin frowned. right , I have to do that.</p><p>When Kevin turned, he was facing connor, and yelped a auh! At the surprise. Connor effectively stepped back, with James standing behind him, an eyebrow raised.</p><p>Connor stood politely, with his hands clasped together in front of him. He wore a uniform similar to Kevins, and his hair coiffed messily over his forehead. A thick bandage padding was wrapped around his shoulder. He looked deathly tired.</p><p>“Well…” James started, elongating his l’s awkwardly, “We best get saddled up.” Kevin sharply turned away, It was almost endearing, seeing Connor in a uniform of his own.</p><p>As it may come as a surprise, wars are expensive. General Hatimbi often had to ration everything, even transportation. Jeeps were scarce among the troops, and many soldiers opted for a more traditional, cheap alternative.</p><p>As Kevin was steadying a saddle bag across his horse, Arnold shuffled next to him, hugging him with an enthusiasm and telling him to be safe, quite loudly. Kevin lightly laughed, patting his friends head, and turning with exasperation to face connor.</p><p>With the length of rope between his teeth, Kevin looped it once, twice, and a third time around the pale hands crested over the saddle. He refused to look up, his face growing hot across his cheeks and over his ears, he could just feel the strain of his friends eyes burning into him. Of course, to properly monitor that he was successfully tying Connor. But kevins own guilt had returned again in his stomach, and was creating scenarios far worse than the one he lived. He muttered to himself, tying a quick knot and yanking it closed. Forgetting that another person was there, only to notice when the body flinched. Slighting looking up, Kevin thought, oh god, big mistake, as he was greeted with Connor, staring down, looking over him.</p><p>He turned sharply, ignoring the boy's faint protests at the ropes. Instead, he busied himself with another strand of rope, tying the two bridles together mindlessly, mumbling a soft hum. Though his face was rather expressionless, and his voice claimed calmness, the shy guilt began to fester in his veins once again. This is it, i'm going insane, he believed.</p><p>The same guilt that had been growing inside him since yesterday. It was a small shudder, a slight blush, a prolonged admiration,though it seemed as the hours went by, Kevin's strange new feeling was now consuming him, and he was growing furious with discomfort. Discomfort at the strangeness of it, and discomfort of enjoying the new feeling.</p><p>As the four settled onto their various equines, the long trek began.</p><p>“Alright boys, ill be scouting ahead, we should be there by dawn.” General Hatimbi announced, trailing away on his horse, leaving the three boys to trot loosely behind him.</p><p>Kevin brushed his swept, matted hair past his forehead, allowing a light, much needed, breeze to comfort him. The sun was hung midday in the sky, although the surrounding trees aided in blocking out the direct sunlight, and instead, various parts of sun gleamed in through the leaves.</p><p>It was a similar, serene, silence that nimbly reminded Kevin of the hours before. God, he just wanted to cry at the remembrance of it all. It made his head grow dizzy, and a knot began to tie itself in his chest. He had to look to the sky with a breath, just to barely escape the suffocation of the panic. The force only gripped onto him tighter though, as Kevin was consequently reminded of Connor. Connor sitting beside him, Connor wrists tied against the saddle, Connors blue eyes.</p><p>Wait. Kevin brought himself out of his thoughts with a startle, now realizing that for his entire inner monologue, he was casually staring at Connor. And it was hard to look away.</p><p>‘Do you even know which way we're going?” Connor countered, with a furrow in his brows. Kevin drew his head back, and sharply looked away, but he couldn't help but let his eyes soften to the floor. Connors voice was harmonious, and to Kevin, it was like opening Pandora's box. Kevin shook his head with a eugh, clearing his mind of the sweetness that filled it.He huffed, turning back to face Connor.</p><p>“Of course we do!” He scoffed, facing the pale road ahead of him. He caught James eye, the brunette's eyebrow raised in confusion. James fiddled with the map in his hand, his reading glasses sitting atop the tip of his nose, “besides,” Kevin continued, “Why do you-” Before kevin could continue his glowering, james tugged onto his sleeve with a scolding look.</p><p>“Actually,” James said, matter-of-factly, “I think we may have taken the long way, and looking at the sun, “ the three glared into the sky, “We better find a faster way to get there. Maybe Connor can help us.” He suggested. With that, James made his way over to Connors' side, the two of them studying the map. Kevin exhaled, long and hard.</p><p>“Hey,” Connor began, in a hushed tone, “Is he,” he nodded his head to Kevin, “always so weird?”</p><p>“Cynical? Yes.” James replied, “Weird? Not usually.” The two gave one another  a confused expression.</p><p>“Can we please just figure this out and get it over with?!” a fit of anger pursued kevin, and he turned to yell at the two.</p><p>“I just want to go home.” Connors' voice trembled, and he accepted defeat, his shoulders hanging sadly. his head staring hard at the ground. Kevin almost believed that he noticed Connor begin to cry, but he tore his eyes away from the boy with an urgency.</p><p>The two boys decided that, according to the map, if they cut through an area of grassy plain, their travel time would be cut by an hour-resulting in just 2 hours to the border. Although most travels to enemy lines would take days, the previous battle allowed for the two camps to be unfortunately close. James neatly folded the map, stuffing it away in his saddlebag, hustling toward kevin.</p><p>“Kevin, whats wrong with you?”</p><p>“You know, it's okay you accidentally brought Connor in, he hasn't been much of any harm, you were just trying to do the right thing-”, James sympathetically put his hand over Kevins arm, but Kevin yanked it away.</p><p>“That's not what i'm upset about.”</p><p>‘Then, what is?” James pushed further.</p><p>“It doesn't matter right now.” Kevin mumbled, giving James a cold shoulder.</p><p>Kevin was dangerously annoyed, and it only bothered him more that the boy he was so desperately trying to avoid- was just a foot behind him. Literally, tied to him.</p><p>Now, General hatimbi arrived from the depths of the trees, mud and dirt stuck to his boots.</p><p>“We’ve decided we're going to take a shortcut through here.” James stated, pointing to a circled area on the map. His general nodded, pulling off ahead of them once more.</p><p>It was a quiet rest of the ride. Every so often James gave Kevin and Connor a worried glance, but Kevin was far off in his agrny dispute with himself. The african grasslands were a hot, sticky, uncomfortable arena. With tall grass that tickled the horses legs, often causing missteps and stumbles. The surrounding antelope carefully watched as the horses and boys stalked over the land, curious to the newcomers. Though, they ran off, startled at a slight sound, galloping into the dense forest.. If a warlord wasn't going to be the end of Kevin's life, it might as well have been a lion.</p><p>The sun was burning, Kevin could just feel his uniform melting into his skin with sweat, and his vision began to lag. For the first hour, Kevin was swiping the sludge off of his face, the heat only aggravating his annoyance more. By the second hour, Kevin was ready to fall apart at the seams. He desperately emptied his water canteen over his hair, shaking it wildly.</p><p>“How much longer/” Kevin panted, pushing back his damp hair.</p><p>“Well,” James fluffed out the map, his hands leaving marks of sweat on it, ‘I think-”</p><p>“Were here.” It was Connor, his face red and sunburnt, a certain sadness hazed his eyes. He fixated at the ravine in front of them. The four slid down against the dirt, and Kevin was stricken by the scene.</p><p>It was a dull, sad scene. There were no children running around playing, or women cooking and sewing, or soldiers laughing over a fire pit. Instead, there were men hauling mules of weaponry, boys sharpening their knives amidst the dirt, and smoke filled the camp. The sun was now disappearing over the land, the pinks and blues painted in the sky, but the air was thick with smoke and blood. General Hatimbi stepped forward, facing two soldiers with their rifles drawn. They pulled them down over their chest as they saw Connor.</p><p>Connor's face shied away at this, Kevin noticed. The pale, freckled boy looked to the floor as they were brought into the camp, to a clearing. The soldiers muttered, and amidst the smoke, Kevin noticed a figure.</p><p>Kevin failed to keep himself composed as the sacred warlord stepped into the light. He instinctively backed away with his horse, a welling fear looming over him. The general was a burly man, with an emotional darkness that clung onto him.His uniform comfortably draped his body, with multiple sashes and belts holding all sorts of weaponry. His shoulders squared and confident ,with a predatory stature. Kevin believed that General Hatimibi was an intimidating man, but frankly, his leader seemed lackluster now.</p><p>For a moment, Connor shared a look with Kevin, a very similar look. It made kevin think, why do you look like that? It annoyed Kevin for a bit, that the hostage looked just as scared and alone as himself.</p><p>Behind the general, was a small, lithe, blonde boy. He shuffled with shyness, but peered over the General with an urgency. Connor's eyes seemed to light up at this, Kevin noticed. The ginger leaned forward with an unspoken curiosity.</p><p>“Alright,” the General gruffed, “Let's get this over with.” the man shifted to one side,with a nonchalant and rather bored expression covered his face.  The general snapped his fingers, and the blonde boy gathered a horse, with a small cloaked figure sitting sadly atop it.</p><p>The figure tore the cloak off her head, her thick hair was sagged with sweat, sweat that poured down her face from the suffocating heat, and her face was red with tears. Her breaths came in ragged, sharp inhales, and she often choked.</p><p>A heavy feeling deepened in kevin's stomach, he staggered, with an overwhelming shock enveloping him. Kevin noticed James mouth help slightly agape, and a tension building over his shoulders. She was almost unrecognizable, but General Hatimbi’s daughter was nonetheless the victim in the trade off.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. connor is missed, dearly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im a sucker for mckinley/elder thomas friendship, and how much elder mckinley cares abt his boys:)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The barrel of the gun is cold and hard against Connors head, he shudders and tenses at it. HIs breath is ragged with anxiety, and he watches as Kevin glares behind him. <br/><em>Oh god, i don't wanna die, not today, please</em>- Connor has now begun to hold back tears, he shakes, his brain thumping against the gun as he hears fiddling. Connor is sure someone is yelling, many people are yelling, but he cant hear them. He cant even hear his own sobs break out- or when the muffled shouting escalates, and the gun is thrust into his mouth. Struggling against the ropes, he cries relentlessly into the weapon. </p><p>The pulling down his arms is gone, and a careful, firm hand is on his back. With the taste of metal out of his mouth, he glares up at the man beside him, Kevin. Kevins eyesy look scared, concerned for once since he had met him, but their contact is pulled apart as another hand jerks Connor away. </p><p>“Gosh, Connor, are you okay?!” A familiar voice asks frantically, “here lets get you inside.” He's pulled once more, into a tent lit with numerous lanterns. It's dark out, he knows. But that's all he knows. </p><p>He's pushed down into a chair.</p><p>A light, pale hand moves Connors swept hair away from his face, and runs his finger along his cheek. </p><p>“You had me so worried, Connor.” </p><p>Connor looks up, the images blurring altogether, then separating once more. As he feels his head begin to slow its whirring, he's left with the sight of his friend- Poptarts, Chris. The small little blonde boy, even shorter than Connor in stature, but with long skinny legs. He looked like a little boy, or maybe he was a little boy. He also now recognizes his breath, his ragged, desperate breaths. He gulps finally, and lets out one, long sigh. </p><p>“Im okay, Poptarts.” Connor huffs, setting down his friends hand with his own. </p><p>“Connor, you're bleeding,” Poptarts urges, and Connors thinks to himself <em>oh, are you sure?</em> But when an intruding pressure comes onto the temple of his skull, now he can feel the blood seeping from it. Poptarts begins to mend at his head, rubbing away at the blood with a piece of cloth. Connors shoulder aches, and “oh!” Poptarts shouts, taking a small step back. </p><p>Connor glances down at his shoulder, the bandage around it welling with blood. His stitches must have come undone when Poptarts grabbed him. </p><p>“Those bastards,” the blonde spits, he pulls Connor away, yanking a curtain closed and pushes him back down onto a chair. </p><p>	‘Poptarts-” Connor intrudes, but is cut off quickly with his friend briskly unbuttoning his uniform, Connor groans and slams his hands down upon his thighs, “<em>Chris!</em>” </p><p>	Poptarts now stops at this, concerned, saddened. </p><p>	‘I'm sorry,’ He whispers, taking a breath, sitting criss cross in front of Connor and the chair, “it's been a long day without you.” He looks up once more, “we’d thought you were gone. Forever.” His face flushed, and tears began to well. </p><p>	Connor exudes a sympathetic breath, and begins to unbutton his uniform himself.</p><p>	“I missed you too, poptarts, <em>so much</em>,” Connor nods, looking away, “but they took good care of me, i promise.” He faintly smiles, and looks down. </p><p>	Connor briefly thinks about the previous day. As he fumbles with the buttons and loops, he thinks about the weight of the world, pulling him down into the river. A pair of strong, tall arms holding him with such care, and an excruciating pain shooting through his body. But when he wakes, he's under the fluorescent light of more care and compassion. And its wonderful, Connor thinks, its wonderful to doze off into sleep, lightly gazing at the man who saved him peering behind the curtains. Even His curtness, and rudeness held such tenderness. Connor adored it. </p><p>	“What happened to you?” Poptarts’ hand briskly grazes over Connors now bare shoulder. His thumb scrapes off blood. </p><p>	“I guess I got shot.’ He awkwardly laughs, his voice cracking, but Poptarts deadpans at this, pulling a thread and needle out of a cabinet. Connor defensively pulls his shoulders up, “No! No more needles!” He commands, standing and turning his back to his friend. </p><p>	“But- its an open wound!” </p><p>	“It's not even bleeding anymore.” Connor comments, shrugging. Yet, Poptarts yanks him around from the arm, facing one another. Poptarts’ face is red over his nose and cheeks, his eyes are glassy- gray. And his skin is sunken in itself, a sick, little boy. Connor sighs, “I just,” </p><p>	<em>“Don't worry,” James glances down at the tag around Connor's neck, “Connor. Were gonna get you stitched right up.” </em></p><p>
  <em>	Connor is screaming. A murdering scream, his knuckles are white as he's tearing through the sheets, and the pain exuberating from his arm is overwhelming. It's a hot, burning pain. Like his skin is melting off itself. A careful hand is placed under his head, and a shot glass is brought to his lips. He pants relentlessly as he drinks, murmuring protests and wails. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>	“Alright, Connor, it's okay. Look at you- you're doing...great.” James coos, like hes talking to a baby. And Connor weakly shouts, Pulling away from James, his tongue tingled. After much of the blood is soaked into multiple gauzes, with the trash can filled to the brim in the bloody cloth, James pulls a needle and thread easily through Connors skin, and shuts the hole in his arm. Blood loosely pours out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>	Connors screaming had subdued in quiet, hushed cries. The throbbing pain gave no way of letting go. He watches as James rubs lightly at his shoulder, and the curiosity and wonder distracts him from the jolts of pain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>	“W-why?” Connor pants. James looks at him, tilting his head, “Why are you-” he gulps, “helping me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>	James sighs with a wipe of his hands, his blood is nearly smeared clean off them, and hes about to speak, but he's interrupted by a whispering argument. The two glance toward the curtain- Connor now notices the boy that saved him casually arguing with a shorter, stouter boy. He tilts his head with a child-like smile. It's wonderful. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>	“Let me go deal with those two. Try and stay off the shoulder.” With that, James has his hands on his hips, and is scolding the two. Connor smirks slightly, they remind him much of his men back at home. Home?</em>
</p><p>	“I wanna go to bed, Chris.” Connors exhausted, and Poptarts can tell by the use of his first name. He’s heard it too many times today, and he’s tired too. He nods, biting his lip as he tries not to cry. Poptarts- Chris is so tired. Since yesterday morning, when they returned to their camp, they counted them all, and Officer Mckinley was missing. He'd spent hours searching through the body bags, huffing and crying like a baby. When to no avail, he spent the rest of the day crying into Zelder or Neelys arms. </p><p>The ginger smiles, a simple, innocent smile of his own. He covers his bare torso with the old uniform, and allows Poptarts to guide his way out of the tent. </p><p>	It's a dark, cold night on the african plains. Connor wishes he could see the stars, but the campfire smog has corrupted the skies for many nights. Hes left to push against the brisk wind, and takes a prolonged glance at the edge of the valley. He wonders where Kevin and James are now. </p><p>	“Officer Mckinley!” A deep, husk voice shouts. And connor freezes. A large hand crashes down onto his shoulder, and squeezes. He whimpers, as blood pours out of the wound, “you're lucky I decided to give up our best hostage today. These bastards begged, said they couldn't do it without you. I shouldve killed them all.” The General growls, and Connor is gasping as the grip on his arm tightens. </p><p>	He gives the much smaller man a tough grip, and he could hear the squelch as his hand wraps around his upper arm. Poptarts’ makes an object, but is shut up with a hiss. </p><p>	Once he's let go, and swaggers off, Connor faintly stumbles, Poptarts’ catching his brief fall, and opening the curtains to the barracks. </p><p>	‘Connors back!” a young man shouts, and a hustle of voices fill Connors' ears. The lights in the barrack are harsh and angry, and he buries his face at him. He's swept away by numerous arms and hands, and multiple comments hush and assure him. </p><p>	“Oh, Connor, we missed you so much!” one of the men pleaded, as they hurried Connor to a bed. </p><p>	“We thought- well-” one of them begin </p><p>	‘Wed thought you-” a second interrupts. </p><p>	“Died.” a third boy finishes the statement, and a hush falls over the room. </p><p>	“Oh, no,” Connor dismisses, waving his hand, “I wouldn't...I'm not…” The group of boys begin anxiously conversing, and allow Connor to lay on the bed, stretching his legs out over it, and carefully placing his arms over his chest, as if a doll, “I wouldn't leave..my boys..” Connor manages to get out, with a faint smile. And he's gone. </p><p>	Connors comes to with a slight gasp, his eyes blinking in the darkness. He sits himself up onto his elbows, and the aching pain in his shoulder scarcely returns. With all the lights out, except for the moon shining through the plexiglass of the window, illuminating his friend asleep beside him, Connor sees nothing. He merely hears the light slumber of his soldiers sleeping around him. He can't help but smile. </p><p>Noticing his boots had been pulled off, and a new bandage around his shoulder. He is also shirtless, as a breeze reminds me of his temperature sensitivity. </p><p>	‘Poptarts,” He whispers, his hand over the boys arm. Poptarts stirs with a groan, yawning as he wipes his face. </p><p>	“Whuhs wrong?” </p><p>	“I just,” Connor begins, laying back down beside his friend, “I'm glad to be-” home. He wants to say. But its not home. Not anymore. A new longing has begun inside him, “i'm glad to be back.” </p><p>	“Oh,” Poptarts nods, “me too.” and he turns over, fast asleep once more.</p><p>	 He watches his friend sleeping, with his eyes sunken, and his gray hairs only growing in. Poptarts was 19, much like the rest of them, and his birthday a mere 3 months behind Connors. The war had aged them all. Matured them into wise grown men. But they were just boys. Children. </p><p>	Connors sinks back down into the bed. </p><p>	“Chris.” Connor breathes, reaching for his hand. Poptarts stirs once more, at the mention of his real name </p><p>	“Yes, Connor?” He questions. He turns to face Connor in the moonlight. Connors lips are slightly parted, as if he wants to say something, and Poptarts can just tell he's worried, “What is it? Is it your arm?” His hand reaches for the shoulder.</p><p>	Connor mumbles a slight no, taking Poptarts wandering hand and clasping it on his own. </p><p>	“I can tell you anything, right?” </p><p>	“Of courses,” Poptarts assures, “Were brothers.” his cheeks glow as he smiles lightly, and his shoulders scrunch with wholesomeness. </p><p>	‘Good… that's good..” Connor smiles back, then pats Poptarts on the arm, “you can go back to sleep now.” When Connors turns back around, two of his boys are hunched over his bed, a candle on a tray in each of their hands. Connor yelps and shoots up into a sitting position. </p><p>	“Oh, sorry Connor,” one of them hums, ‘What are you guys whispering about?”</p><p>	“Zelder!” Connor hushes, “Neely?” </p><p>“And Davis!” A third boy appears, besides Poptarts side. </p><p>“You boys know you should be asleep.” He sounds like his mother. </p><p>“We just-... it was weird without you, Connor.” Neely explains, setting down the candle beside him on the floor, and leaning himself over the bed. </p><p>These are adults. Connor thinks. But are they really? These four boys surrounding him have grown so lost and helpless throughout the war. And Connor had grown to take each of the Americans under his guidance. He felt responsible for them, as their superior to keep them safe and sane, but as their friend to show them kindness, and humanity. He adored his boys. </p><p>Connor smiles, inviting his friends onto the bed with a light pat. Poptarts’ growls, and pulls the single pillow over his head as he turns onto his stomach, groaning something like what happened to sleeping</p><p>	“So…” what happened?” Zelder is the one who asks the question they were all thinking, and Connors' face shyly drops. </p><p>	“Oh,” He awkwardly stuffs his hands behind his neck, “nothing you boys need to worry about.” He chuckles. No one buys it. More silence. </p><p>	“Okay, well,” Connor continues, “they just took me in and stitched me up...put me to bed and brought me home.” he nods his head thoroughly, “nothing bothersome at all.” </p><p>	Zelder and Neely share a look. </p><p>	“Boy,” David huffs, pulling himself onto the bed, to which Poptarts whines louder, “They sound nice.” </p><p>	Connor thinks of Kevin at this, he thinks of his anger, his attitude. </p><p>	<em>Hes looking down at the boy, the boy named Kevin, holding his own hands sharply against the horn of the saddle, and grunting as he ties him. Connor now feels all of his highschool romances come to life once more.</em> </p><p>	“They were great.” He purrs.</p><p>	“What do you think we're going to do tomorrow?” Neely asks, a slight fear in his tone, as he mindlessly draws circles on the weak sheets.</p><p>	“Just chores for you boys.” Connor exhales, he can't begin to imagine putting them in another battle, “After yesterday's screw up, The General hasn't said anything for the rest of the month.” </p><p>	“Hopefully not for a while.” Zelder groans, and he slumps against Neely. </p><p>	Connors' gaze softens at this, a sad, sympathetic stare. He takes a brief scan at the men before him. He blows out the candles. </p><p>	“Lets get some rest.” </p><p>As Connor settles back down onto the bed, he hears the three men scuffle to<br/>their various racks, whispering and giggling like the children they are.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you guys liked the small simple chapter, pls leave a comment or kudo:)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Btw, heres a spotify playlsit i made for this fic!! :) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0oS1erpe8gwfu8znA1XiSJ?si=6E-Z_R7kTVSbtYNLTjq9cQ</p></blockquote></div></div>
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